The Runaway Battlemage
by One4TheThumb10
Summary: When a convicted Battlemage named Lance escapes the Imperial City Prison all hell breaks loose, as he desperatly tries to escape the law. When Lance is thrown into a group of skooma dealers Lance becomes involved in a plot to overthrow the chancellor.


Prologue

The guard slowly walked down the hall the keys rattling against his thigh. In the third cell obscured by the dark was a hardy Breton. A little over six foot the Breton needed to descend a long way to reach the bed on the floor, which he did. He had been in prison for a little over five months. He hadn't done too much except get in a rather heated bar fight when the contracts began to dry up. No more merchants trying to traverse the dangerous forests, no more caravans loaded with goods for a town. He broke the glass over the other man's head and followed up with a few punches to his face breaking his jaw and his own hand. The guards had arrived at the bar in a few minutes to try and subdue the drunken battlemage. Slurring his speech he tried to declare his innocence the smell on his breath was all the guards needed to clear there mind of any chance of him telling the truth. The Breton was smashed and in his drunken rage he berated the two guards with a hail of punches further breaking his hands against there iron armor. The guards dove on him taking him to the ground they punched him the gut until any chance of him resisting was gone with his breath. They slowly took him to the castle were they put him into a cell all alone. Three weeks later they transferred him to the Imperial City jail fearing what could happen if he decided suddenly he wanted to leave. The cell he was in at the Imperial City had a cellmate an aging wood elf named Marko. Marko had been in jail for twenty-five years after he was convicted of the murders of Baenlin and his manservant Gromm. Marko didn't speak to him much but when he did it was more as if he was studying him asking him questions trying to discern why he was in prison. The first time he had seen Marko he knew that there was something wrong inside him. His eyes were as black as the void and seemed to consume all life around him. A big reason he was still in prison was because of Marko. When Marko was giving him one of his normal interrogations he asked a question about murder. Instead of asking the Breton asked him why he killed the two men.

"I killed many more than two." He explained with a smile.

"Why though why kill them?" the Breton asked feeling a little disgusted by the smile the wood elf had.

"Simple," he said "to send them to Sithis and the void."

He finally realized the evil in the one man sitting across from him. The man had killed because he could he had no other reason than that. Two days later the Wood Elf woke him up in the middle of the night and whispered "To Sithis and the Void."

The wood Elf was outmatched. Once, he had been a fearless warrior and a daring assassin but age had taken it from him and now he was nothing more than an old man trying to continue what he had once done. The Wood Elf lay broken and battered in the middle of the cell and the Breton decided to sleep, not losing an ounce of sleep over his death. The next morning the guards found his body. They considered it murder not knowing what had happened in the cell the night before. The guards without any remorse slapped an extra three years onto his sentencing. A three years that he promised he would not spend in a bland cell wasting away his life like the Wood Elf he had just killed.

Chapter 1

He had spent most of his time trying desperately to stop his decline. It was hard not to gain wait and lose muscle in prison. Five months of doing nothing but pacing the cold hard floor did not do wonders for a warrior. He even felt his knowledge of the arcane arts slipping. Freedom was much better than prison especially when he did nothing to deserve five months. So he had gotten drunk and was involved in a bar fight did that really warrant five months of prison. Than he had killed an assassin, an assassin that had tried to kill him no less. Another three years was slapped on to his sentencing. He was sure he could not stand another three years of prison. He lived for the adventure of being a mercenary traveling between the provinces guarding merchants looking for artifacts long lost. A guard walked by his cell talking loudly to another guard.

"So when is the new prisoner being delivered?" he announced.

"Sometime tomorrow he's coming from the Anvil prison so it may take a while."

"What cell should we put him in? We can't put him in the cell with the Breton he doesn't play nice with others."

"What choice do we have?" the first guard replied "The prison is almost completely filled."

The Breton stood up a little bit intrigued and walked to the bars of his cell.

"What are you looking at?" the guard asked turning around "going to treat this new cellmate with respect?"

"Sure as much as I do to you guys." The Breton said with a smile before he turned away.

Around midday the next day a Nord walked in flanked by two guards. The guards definitely did not look friendly as they pushed and shoved him through the door. Unlocking the door to his cell they pushed the Nord in who tried to keep his balance but fell. The guards quickly locked the door and turned and began to walk back the way they had come. The Nord looked around the room letting his gaze linger slightly on the two bedrolls. He had obviously not had a cellmate either. Continuing to study the room the Nord finally noticed the Breton sitting in the corner up against the wall.

"Hey," the Nord grunted.

"Hey yourself," the Breton said back with a smile.

"So….how long you been in here?" the Nord asked.

"Five months, you?"

"A little longer than that." He said.

"For what?"

"I got in a fight with a guard. Nearly killed him." The Nord answered avoiding his gaze.

"Not as bad as me." The Breton said. "I got in to a fight while drunk broke the guy's nose."

"And that is worst how?"

"You never let me finish. Than in prison I killed my cellmate."

"Great, make's me feel loads better."

"What's your name?" the Nord asked trying to keep the conversation going for as long as possible.

"Lance, yours?" the Breton asked growing tired of the forced conversation.

"Ike," he said felling the conversation nearing the end.

But the Breton had grown interested in one aspect.

"How did you almost kill a guard?"

"Well it was in Anvil," he said trying to set the scene. "I had been planning on looking for any kind of work. See Bruma isn't doing so well anymore. Work has been drying up with the war in Skyrim. There's been almost no travel so Bruma has lost most tourist attraction. Skyrim has decided to stop hiring Nord mercs for whatever reason and with the war no more merchants travel back in forth. Why would they anyway Skyrim will no longer by there wares with a war brewing. All there money has been put forth winning the war."

"Same with Leyawiin." Lance said. "There's been a border dispute between the Black Marsh all my contracts dried up."

"Well see, I decided to try my luck away from Bruma I decided to try Anvil. The trip took me almost three weeks and I spent all my money on supplies. By the time I reached Anvil I was fresh out of money and hurting for food. What was I supposed to do I was dying slowly. I tried to look for work for three days. But the Fighters Guild had also dried up they were no longer accepting new members. I had exhausted every option so in the middle of the night when the inn keeper was sleeping I broke in to the Count's Arms. I only wanted food I wasn't going to take anything else. But I made to much noise and well he woke up and called the guard. I'm not sure what I was thinking but I was on the edge. I fought back against the guard and almost killed him. I tried to run I tried to leave town but they had already locked it down. They soon outnumbered me and sent me to jail. About five months later they decided to deliver me to the Imperial City jail. What about you. You don't look much like a murderer to me." He said studying him, attempting to see through any lies the Breton may tell.

"I was born in Morrowind," he said. "But one of my contracts was to deliver a caravan of goods to Leyawiin….."

Chapter 2

He walked down the town streets trying to avoid the rain whenever possible. The loud thunder and sound of rain on the curb made it almost impossible to talk to his friend beside him. Clyde walked beside him or more running trying to make it to the inn as fast as possible before it began to hail. The storm had been growing worst over the past hour but they had been hunting before they returned to the inn. They had gotten lucky and Clyde being a great marksman needed only one shot with is glass bow to take down the deer. Moving quickly in an effort to avoid the storm they had skinned it and cut it in to small pieces which they stuck in there packs. Clyde and Lance had begun doing contracts together as soon as they had turned eighteen in an effort to find the best way to leave the boring town of Ald'ruhn. There first contract had taken them to Balmora and with a little luck they had finally ended up in Gnaar Mok. They had been trying for years to reach Cyrodiil but any time they had gotten close there had been set backs. Cyrodiil had stopped letting just anyone in and the only way was to come in with a caravan or a merchant. The two friends were staying at a inn in Gnaar Mok and as they hurried back they became aware at the storm as it picked up speed and ferocity. The nearby stores and houses were getting hammered by the winds and rain. The two on the street even had trouble walking through the storm. After walking for what seemed like hours the two mercs entered the dingy inn and escaped the howling winds and tormenting rains. The rain inside the inn sounded almost as loud as it did outside the building even seemed to sway along with the wind.

"Nice night were having isn't it fellas?" the inn keeper asked sarcastically as some of his food was knocked off the nearby table with a new bout of wind.

"Great, that's why we were outside just enjoying the weather," Lance said with a smile as he sat down at one of the tables scattered around the inn. Clyde joined him a few seconds later after struggling to close the inn door.

"It's time like these when I am glad to have a roof over my head. Must suck to be one of those beggars out there on there bedrolls right now." The inn keeper said after joining them at there table. "Oh by the way, while you two were out hunting a man came by asking for you's. Said he had a new contract, something about delivering goods to Leyawiin a province in Cyrodiil, said if your interested meet him at Sword and Sheathe around midday tomorrow."

"We can be in Cyrodiil in a little over three weeks." Lance said to Clyde with a smile."

The rest of the night they spent talking to the inn keeper and a few other guests in the inn doing anything to try to ignore the reality that the storm was causing. They talked to people about the other Provinces, news and rumors around Morrowind and about the tensions that were rising once again between the houses. Three Dunmer and a Wood Elf were the only guests of the inn not including Clyde another Wood Elf and the inn keeper a Redguard. The guests went to bed a little before one a.m. after everyone had gotten drunk but the pair of mercs. The mercs had an important meeting tomorrow and getting drunk would not help there chances of being selected to guard the caravan on it's way to Leyawiin. When they finally did turn in at around three a.m. the storm was still as bad as ever but there mood in no way reflected the storm they were going to Cyrodiil. Finally they would leave the old and Dunmer infested province of Morrowind.

The next morning came early and the mercs regretted falling asleep at three a.m. when they could have had much more time to sleep. The three Dunmer and Wood Elf were gone when they woke up. The inn keeper said they had left in a hurry. The storm was still berating the inn when the two mercs left to the Sword and Sheathe. Lance dressed in glass light armor and carrying his Daedric Longsword while Clyde was in leather with his glass bow and arrows. The two mercs navigated the flooded streets to the best of there ability trying desperately to fight the fifty mile an hour winds and reach the store. The rain continued to splash in to there eyes and face that they continually had to turn away or squint in to the rain. Finally after what seemed like hours the two entered the store to see four men sitting at a table. The three Dunmer and the Wood Elf from the inn and a hardy Nord they had never seen before. The Nord nodded his head a gesture that certainly mean to take a seat. They did eying the Nord and the four others at the table.

"So I see you are interested in entering Cyrodiil. Well you see the client is extremely rich and the goods he is transporting are not wholly legal. To put it bland he is transporting a large amount of Skooma and the guards at the borders may not take lightly to illegal trade in there region. The client is willing to pay a total of five hundred thousand septims as it is a rather large shipment of Skooma. Split between the four of you well you can do the math. It is a very large payout but it is our most dangerous contract. The client asked for six of our best as you may be fighting guards and such. The contract is totally optional but the payout would make you totally rich for the rest of your life. We would like you to decide and fast you see as we you will be leaving later today if you accept." With that the Nord got up and walked out of the door and into the storm.

Chapter 2

There was no sign of the storm stopping it just kept growing. Over the next two hours the wind speed increased to forty miles and hour and the rain picked back up even the thunder which had quieted early came back in full force. The six mercenaries didn't speak at first they were to absorbed in there thoughts each deciding for themselves whether or not they would aid a drug dealer in earning a living. One-hundred thousand septims was way too much to give up. Finally after what seemed like an eternity of silence in the room each mercenary spoke there agreement in accompanying the caravan holding the Skooma.

"You know this will probably mean our death," Clyde said to the mercenaries.

"But this is what we wanted Clyde passage in to Cyrodiil how bad could it be? Were not even sure that the guards will know about the shipment." Lance said to Clyde trying to convince everyone in the room including him it was the right choice. After Lance had spoken another uncomfortable silence graced the room until the Nord walked back in. Not saying a word the Nord sat down smiling.

"I hope you've made your decision, the client would like to be leaving within the next hour."

"Why is he in such a hurry?" Lance asked not expecting to be leaving so soon.

"Regular Skooma dealers make money but the client is one or the richest Skooma dealers anywhere, because he deals with the rich who do not want to draw attention to them. Because of this he is normally asked to meet someone in the middle of the night or at specific times. The payout is greater but so is the risk of being caught. The rich don't like being caught, but he has a reputation of getting it to people without others knowing. The client has a deal, soon and his only chance of making it is if he leaves right away. So have you decided?"

"Yes I think were all in." said one of the Dunmer at the table.

"Great then let's go."

"Were?" Clyde asked surprised.

"The outskirts of the town."

With that the Nord stood up and walked out into the storm just as thunder rumbled some were far off in the distance. The six mercenaries each looked at each other until they stood up and walked out. They had trouble navigating the storm as it intensified the rain increasing its downfall. It took about an hour to traverse the town and come to the outskirts were a caravan and two horses waited. The horses were brown and huge, fast and powerful. Two men stood by the caravan trying desperately to avoid the rain.

The Nord whispered to the mercs in almost an undertone, "There the personal guards of the clients. Whenever he does a shipment they go with hopefully you get to know them."

Lance and Clyde looked at each other rather timidly. What had they gotten themselves into? One man had a huge claymore strapped to his back while the other had a huge war hammer the size of a small child on his back. The one with the war hammer was a brutal looking Orc the other was a Redguard. They nodded at the mercs in agreement. The Nord gave a small wave and left while the two guards moved to the mercs side.

"This Is Urgal Gro-Shabak and I am Laltin and you are?" The Redguard said looking at the mercs.

"My name is Lance, the Bosmer here is Clyde." Lance said pointing to his friend.

The three Dunmer and Wood Elf began to speak as one but then stopped.

"This is Greg," the Dark Elf said pointing to the Wood Elf. "This is Lonny, Hart, and I am Delmar," he said pointing at each in turn.

The Guards turned and walked back to the caravan and began prepping the horses for travel. The six mercs slowly walked towards the caravan like it was a time bomb. The rain battered the horses and the caravan and you could tell that the horses did not enjoy the rain. After about fifteen minutes the guards climbed in the caravan motioning for the mercs to do the same. They did, glancing around the caravan for any signs of Skooma, the mercs sat down.

"We want to post three guards outside the caravan at all times the other five can wait inside the caravan if they want. Because of the weather we will switch every hour."

The Redguard and the Orc were both dressed in steel heavy armor and seemed rather comfortable in it. As the Redguard talked the Orc grabbed the reigns and the horses began to trot. The first shift was Lance, Clyde and the other Wood Elf. The three stood in the rain for no reason as they ran in to no one on the road. Soon the storm became so bad and the ground so wet that the horses refused to move. They had no choice but to stop and wait. For the next hour and a half the storm continued to worsen until the rain made it impossible to see. It continued on like this for two hours until the caravan began to sink in the mud. The party jumped out of the caravan and the slow descent stopped. They had no choice but to wait out in the stormy rainy weather with the horses. Suddenly, about fifty yards down the road there was a blur of motion. The Wood Elf's were the first to notice and drew there bows while knocking an arrow. Almost at once the remaining six drew there weapons while everyone waited for an ambush. For about ten minutes nothing happened. Than a Khajiit scurried across the road bow in the hand. Clyde loosed an arrow that caught him in the leg. He fell with a sickening crunch and tried to pull it out until Greg put the final arrow into his face. Than from every were Khajiit jumped out of the woods brandishing weapons. The mercs quickly spun to defend against the attack.

Chapter 4

Most Dunmer looked the same as did two of the three mercenaries. The first two had almost identical skin and eye color. There jaws were both square and they both had high cheekbones. Delmar though looked worlds apart from the two. First he was short much shorter than the other two Dunmer. He had a weak jaw and a slim face. His face was paler, much paler than the two Dark Elf's but not as pale as a vampire's would have been. His eyes were almost orange in color and seemed to know great tragedy. Clyde and Greg were almost spitting images of each other or so it seemed at a first glance. They were both short they both had short brown hair and brown eyes. But Greg had a nice size scar above his left eye. Clyde seemed to be a strong Wood Elf by his facial features with a large forehead and large nose while Greg seemed too small, more of your normal Wood Elf look. The Orc was huge he might even of been one of the biggest Orcs in existence. Almost six foot nine inches he was your normal looking Orc, ugly and brutal as the rest of his race. His green skin was darker than most and his war braids were black, very black. The Redguard was a little shorter than Lance but much wider and cut. The Redguards skin was by far the darkest of the eight if you didn't count the Dark Elves as dark. The Redguard looked dangerous with his Daedric Claymore and given the chance would prove it. The Breton had nothing special about him a little over six foot he was lean and relatively cut with a square jaw and manor that came with most practitioners of the arcane arts Lance believed him better than most. Some referred him to being a High Elf because of there like thoughts, a reason he spent more time with Elves than any of the other races, even his own.

Even with rain falling everywere the first arrow Clyde fired struck true. A lunging Khajiit absorbed the arrow through his neck and fell struggling to breathe. Two more Khajiits attempted to attack from the sky by jumping on the caravan a mistake that Lance made them pay for. Spinning on his heel he hit the two in the chest with a shock spell that launched them a good five yards backwards. Khajiits began to surround the caravan swords drawn. No longer useful the two Wood Elf's dropped there bows and pulled out there daggers. The Khajiit and mercenaries lunged at each other baying for blood. Clyde ducked under a sword slipping his dagger under the Khajiits chin. He was rewarded with the crunching of bone and the sound of a surprised Khajiit gasping for breath. Greg the other Wood Elf lost his footing in the deep mud and fell. The Khajiit in front of him did not he continued straight on swinging his short sword. Twisting his body he narrowly avoided the blade while swing his own which caught the Khajiit in the back of the leg tearing the precious tendons to pieces. The Khajiit roared in anger as he fell in a combination of blood and mud. Just as he fell Greg brought his blade around again lodging it in the Khajiits neck. Greg tried to bring it away but it slipped out of his hand and stayed in its neck lodged in a bone somewhere. The Khajiit fell face forward into the mud, dead. Laltin lunged out with his claymore opening the Khajiits chest before it even had a chance to get close enough with its dagger. Just to the right of him the Orc was cracking skulls with his huge war hammer. With each swing another lifeless form hit the ground chest caved in or head flat and destroyed. The three Dunmer fought as one covering each others back they were the perfect team. The perfect combination of speed and strength one would tear threw the chest of a Khajiit with one blow while the other would take three swipes but would end a life all the same. When ever they stayed to far away he would take them down with a shock spell but finally one got in to close. Sword drawn, Lance blocked the first attack up high while the Khajiit leaped. Having used all his force the Khajiit landed hard on the mud stunned slightly. Lance swung his sword twice and twice met the metal of the Khajiits blade defending him so he could stand up. Regaining his footing the Khajiit spun in a tight circle his blade drawn across another blade. They blocked dived and slashed looking for an opening any opening in the others defense. Blade clashed on blade swinging high blocking low but the Khajiit was faster and soon he had ended up striking his armor a blow that did almost no damage. After the Khajiits last lunge Lance rolled with the blow in an attempt not to get knocked backed it had worked. Using the few seconds he had while the Khajiit was recovering from his last attack Lance plunged the blade threw his gut. An explosion of blood bone and blade came out the other side. Gasping for breath the Khajiit looked down at the sword that had made paper out of his insides. Going in to spasms, the Khajiit died in the mud tinted red with the blood and bone of his insides.

Chapter 5

Moving the bodies was a chore. But a necessary one, the horses would have no chance of moving with the bodies stacked up in front of them. The storm had finally started to subside after constant rain and wind. The rain was letting up and the wind had dropped to around ten to twenty miles an hour. The thunder and lightning was even few and far between. When Lance had killed the Khajiit they had fled but there were still a large number of bodies and a question. Why would Khajiits want Skooma? Was it just because they were bandits or was there something more. The bodies had to be dragged out of the way of the horses each with nasty looking cuts or burns from a recent spell. Arrows from the two Wood Elves even frequented the dead bodies. Some how, not one of the mercenaries fell a tribute to there skill in battle. With the slowing of the storm came the realization that they would have to hurry to make up the time lost from the bandit attack. As soon as the ground dried enough to move, the horses were reigned in and they began the journey again. The slow drizzles finally ended around midday and brought the sun. The weather was short lived as half an hour later clouds moved in and the wind picked back up. The mercenaries continued the trip being so far behind they continued well into the night. The Next few weeks were like a dream the weather was horrible as ever, rain, thunderstorms, and the wind plagued the mercenaries. But it did serve one purpose as any ambushers would think twice before attacking in the weather. So far after the Khajiit attack the forest had been empty and the Mercs were only a few days away from reaching the border to Cyrodiil. The party of mercs continued to speed up the pace in hopes that they could reach the border in the next few days. By the fourth week the border had finally come in to view. The whole next day was spent trying to persuade the border patrol to let them in. The Guard Captain told them that they would have to wait until tomorrow until the guard would let them in. Something about the rules and a thorough background check.

The next day brought the first rays of sunshine in the last week. But it turned out to be false hope for the party of mercs woke up to twenty armed guards staring down at them.

"Thought you could just slip right through?" the guard captain asked smiling at the pathetic mercs who had failed there contract. "We had heard about the shipment for weeks. We were warned that it would be a large company of mercs. But we never expected the shipment to belong to Hidros I thought he stopped delivering in Cyrodiil?"

The guard captain asked the Orc and Redguard.

"I'm sure it was just for your amusement." The Redguard said to the smiling guards.

"Being smart are we? You think Hidros would have learned."

The guard had already taken there weapons but no one said you needed weapons. Acting quickly Lance cast a shock spell that launched the Guard Captain and his partner ten feet away. He dove for the Guard's Captain's sword and reached for his partners bow. He had timed it perfectly for the Orc had used one punch to the guard's gut to put him out of commission denting metal and knocking the wind out of him. He stepped beside him grasping his sword hand he broke his wrist and than tossed the sword to Laltin, who blocked an incoming attack and countering with his own attack took off his head. The three Dunmer took off running nimbly avoiding the swords of the few guards in there path. Greg tried to avoid the sword but it dug into his shoulder letting out a gasp of pain he ran. The blade came flying out taking part of the muscle with it. Greg slipped in the mud cradling his shoulder the guard turned and slid the blade against his back. Greg fell into the mud dead. Lance tore threw two guards, blade in hand and gave Clyde the bow and quiver. Back pedaling Clyde put two arrows into the nearest guard who grunted in pain but kept coming until one of the Dunmer jumped on his back thrusting the dagger threw the man's neck. The guard crumpled making the Dunmer land hard in to the sludge twisting his ankle. Three more guards replaced the one, almost at once Lance began sprinting trying to reach the injured Dunmer. It was a losing battle Clyde took out one with a hail of arrows but the other two still stood over the Dunmer when they cut him down in the mud. Almost at once two raging Dunmer burst out of nowhere brandishing blades they began fighting the guards. The clank of steel on steel could be heard over the sounds of the rain just starting to pick up. The first Dunmer fell after having his sword arm cut off, the other after killing the guard he was fighting cut him in half exposing his innards which mixed with the mud. The Guard turned to face the charging Breton but three arrows fired in quick succession took down any thoughts of his resistance. The Redguard and Orc had run in to there own trouble, four guards. The Orc had just been cut by one the wound on his chest bleeding profusely but he wasn't down yet with the help of Clyde the Orc and Redguard took out the guards. About a minute later the Orc fell, dead his chest tore open from the blade. The Redguard fell to his knees trying to hold his head up long enough for him to survive. But another guard came up behind him. Almost without thinking the guard stuck his sword threw his mid-section. Clyde hit him with a hail of arrows and watched as he fell into the mud were he lay beside the Redguard also dead. Lance watched as everyone except Clyde and he was killed. It was getting close to night, the rain had stopped pouring and Lance and Clyde slumped in the mud. Not Clyde or Lance thought to count how many guards were dead. Five remained and they were just buying there time for when they were unprepared. This was the time. Five guards charged out of the shadows one had a bow the other four carried swords. Clyde took down two with his bow before the last two reached him he pulled out his dagger ready for a fight. Lance charged into the fray like a mad man. Swinging his blade over his head like a war axe he connected with the one guard swords making him lose his grip in the wet weather meaning he could watch as his shoulders were taken off his chest. The other guard lunged at the Wood Elf catching him in the arm. Almost at once Clyde lunged knocking the guard's sword right out of his hand and into the mud. Clyde landed on top of the guard forcing his dagger into the guard's chest blood splattering onto the archer. The other archer waited for a shot which he took, three arrows slammed into the defenseless Wood Elf knocking him to the ground. He had been killed by what he loved.

**Chapter 6 **

The walls of the cell were black and crumbling. The cell itself was wet and dirty filled with mud and debris. Water ran down the cell wall collecting in puddles or creating even more mud. Voices very easily echoed off the walls meaning if you wanted to remain unheard you needed to speak quietly. Lance had, speaking softly about his trip from Morrowind to Cyrodiil. The loss of his friend Clyde and the death of twenty guards a band of Khajiits and mercenary's. So many had died and by the will of the Nine he had survived. After Clyde fell Lance had dove at the guard cutting his gut and watching as his innards fell out. He was alive enough to watch as his eyes were cut out of his head. Finally he loped off his head and buried the body in the mud leaving the head on top to watch as he buried his friend Clyde. Finding the driest spot under a tree he buried Clyde's body taking care to remove the arrows. He buried him with his bow, quiver and armor. Finally, in the middle of the night he ran. Having learned a little from Clyde how to remain invisible he snuck past the guards at the border.

Once Lance finished his story he picked up his tray of food the guard had delivered and began chewing hungrily. The bread was hard and the piece of turkey dry but food was food and he hadn't had better for his stay in the prison anyway. The water he washed it down with was cool but tasted old. Ike, the Nord began to eat his own his feast consisting of the same. The Nord had listened to his story asking questions once in a while to clear up a detail Lance had missed. They had sat at opposites ends of the room almost never looking at each other. The tray was plastic and chipped and the guards who delivered it opened the gate just enough to slip the food through before closing it. The guards muttered something about the smell, but what were they supposed to do about the waste? It had grown dark by the time Lance had finished, and he was tired.

"I think I am going to go to sleep," Lance said to the Nord.

"Yea me too, long day," he replied.

The Next morning brought a cold wind that blew through the bars of the window. Not only was there a cold wind but the weather outside was cold the snow soared through the window pilling on the cell floor. The cold woke Lance up early as the sun barely began to rise. The Nord was already up sitting in the driest corner of the cell starring out the window.

"Good Morning," Lance said. The Nord turned, startled. "Oh your up," he said, "Cold morning."

"Yea woke me up early," Lance said.

"I was thinking this morning; do you want to remain in jail?"

"No, why?"

"I got seven months and I think together we could break out. The guards always break up fights so if we stage a fight, well were one step closer to breaking out once we take the keys off there body."

"They'll have weapons?"

"So we will have our own. There are plenty of bones to go around."

The next three weeks were spent sharpening the bones enough to puncture armor but not to much to break on contact. After two weeks trial and error the two found a perfect medium. Not only did they have to find the right degree of sharpness they also had to avoid the guards finding them sharpening the bones. If they had been found, well they could kiss there chances of escaping good-bye. The nights passed in relative silence except for the dripping of water and howls of the wolves outside. The light of the stars pored through the windows, just enough to sharpen the bones. They found themselves sleeping during the day to work at night. During the second week there was a blizzard so intense that the guards had to move the prisoners in to a different cell to avoid the cold. The guards almost found the bones but thanks to the effort of the two prisoners they remained hidden. Two days later they were put back in there cell and the work began again. The third week brought sunshine and the realization that the bones would work fine.

Chapter 7

The sun reflected off the sharpened bone as Ike twirled it in his fingers. They planned on staging the fight around midday when there was the least amount of guards patrolling the halls. The two had thought about it all last night hopefully only two guards would come trying to break up the fight giving them the chance they needed to overpower them. If it was any more than three they had no chance and would call it off.

But they wouldn't know until they tried. At about midday they did. Ike dove across the cell knocking Lance to the ground. Lance countered with a punch that practically broke Ike's jaw who yelped out in surprise loud enough to attract the guards. The two rolled around for a while longer until the three guards broke up the scrabble. It was three so the plan was go. Two grabbed Ike by the collar the other grabbed Lances arm. Pulling the bone out of his belt he slipped it under the guard's helmet a crunch of metal and bone was his reward. Pulling it back out he lunged at the other two guards who pulled out there short swords. They swung but the blade passed over his head giving him the opportunity to push the bone deep in his gut and twisting it. The guard fell dropping his blade while the other connected with Lances arm pain so intense shot up his arm to his shoulder. He fell in the mud cradling it while he fired a flame spell tossing the guard into the far wall. Ike dove on top of him shoving his bone through his helmet blood turning the white bone red. In a blur of movement the two changed in to the guards armor and grasped there short sword. They hid the three bodies in the deep mud in an effort to keep the knowledge that there were to false guards roaming the palace. The two walked down the hall at a hurried pace trying to outrun any patrols. They opened the gate to the jailor who sat at the desk. The jailor nodded at them as they walked by. They followed the halls until they ended up at the exit to the palace of the Imperial City. The two guards let them walk right by. But they were pushing a time table they only had so much time before a guard found the bodies' mud couldn't hide the lumps for ever. They jogged whenever no one was in sight and walked when there was. The alarm finally went off as guards began sprinting to the castle. Ike and Lance followed them until the guards were a few yards off before they turned and sprinted the other way. Following the signs they made it out of the Imperial City and ran in to the stables. No one was in sight so they jumped on to horses who took off towards the bridge hooves clattering the whole way. It wouldn't be long before everyone was on the lookout for the two they needed a place to lay low and thankfully the Nord, Ike knew the perfect spot.

**Chapter 8**

The Two rode far off into the night. The only sound heard was the clatter of hooves from the horses. The night was still and dark the moon barely generated enough light. Perfect for a prison break out. Ike spoke on the way many times on the way there. He claimed once he had been hired as a bodyguard for a shipment. It wasn't real mercenary work as he was just a drunk Nord. Your run of the mill drunk Nord, one of the everyday slouches who hang out in the taverns making huge debt. Ike claimed he had been in debt real bad over twenty thousand septims. The tavern owner wanted his money and Ike had nowhere to go. Well a man came along offering him a deal, a Skooma deal was about to go down between two local crime lords. Both were supposed to be very rich and very well backed. The contractor also explained that the Imperial Pigs might be on to the deal. It was either this or go to prison for a very long time as the contractor explained he would pay the money to the tavern owner and all would be well. It really wasn't all well. Ike explained how he met with the dealer who had six other guards four Orcs a Nord and a big burly Redguard. The party walked to a very deserted spot in the forest near a run down cabin. They waited there for what seemed like hours when finally someone appeared, shortly after guards poured out of the forest. Ike fought hard he killed two guards before everyone fled into the night along with him. Luckily the guards wanted the dealer and not him and followed the dealer. Ike went back to the man who gave him the contract and made a living off the Skooma trade. Not selling or using but guarding the ones who did sell and use. Ike had seen them do some bad things and he new they would take the pair in especially after what he had done for them in his last contract. He had taken the rap for a Skooma trade. The head dealer had been under suspicion for a while and when the finally had him Ike convinced the guards it was him. That was the real reason he was in prison.

"No way," Lance said his face growing serious in the dark, "I just ditched these dealers in Morrowind I don't want to come crawling back to them."

Ike turned and looked at Lance on his horse, "As of right now we really have no choice. We did kind of kill three guards to get here and I'm sure they will harbor us."

"Fine, Fine," Lance said looking unhappy," But I don't like it Skooma dealers are shady. Were are they by the way?"

"Black Marsh," Ike said smiling, "Argonians are there number one customer."

The ride to the Black Marsh was long and almost uneventful except for the random Minotaur or Bear that the two had to put down. They only stopped when the horses began to reach exhaustion they wanted to reach the Black Marsh before any guards got wind of them heading that way. The two ran in to one Highway man who fell rather easily to there blade. The two eliminated four Bandits and stayed at there camp when they were little more than a few days ride away. The terrain became more and more wet the farther they went. There also was more plants, bugs and trees limiting there movement. On the ninth day of riding Lance's horse died meaning he had to huff it the rest of the way. The farther they got the harder it was to maneuver without accidentally steeping in to a pond. Lance and Ike switched on and off of riding the horse but soon it became useless as it could barely make it through the tight gaps. They ditched the horse on the twelfth day going the rest of the way on foot.

"You sure you know were your going?" Lance asked.

"Pretty sure there should be a rundown cabin not far from here." Ike replied slapping at a mosquito.

"We've been walking around here for a while we could of missed it with all these trees and things," Lance said scanning the Marsh.

"I doubt it, it stands out pretty well."

Sleeping was even worse than moving as bugs continually bit the two if they stopped moving. The ground was wet and soaked and they had nothing to sleep on. The plants were wet and it rained almost constantly at night. They normally slept for about two hours in the Marsh before they continued to move again.

On the fifteen day Ike slipped in to a pond causing Lance to have to go in and get him as the mud made movement almost non-existent.

"How can these Argonians live here? I would have killed myself within a year."

"There skin is harder then are's on account of there scales. Bugs just leave them alone and for some reason they love the water."

"Strange, strange race," Lance muttered.

Finally on the seventeenth day they found the cabin. It was indeed rundown and the wood seemed to be rotting. They opened the door to the cabin there skin bit up to reveal two men sitting at a table. One was an older Redguard the other a young one both were smoking and they were in deep conversation with one another. The older one looked up and slapped the younger one in the head they both drew there swords staring at Lance and Ike.

"Oh no," Lance said," We forgot to change out of our watch armor."

**Chapter 8**

"Were not really watch guards see," Ike tried. "We escaped from prison using these suits." But the two continued towards them swords drawn. They spread out swords in front of them eyeing the Breton and Nord cautiously.

"Um, see this is my friend Lance, I'm Ike were truly not part of the watch." Ike said growing angry.

The Redguards seemed to stop listening drawing closer to the two who did not want to fight.

The older one swung, Lance twisted his body narrowly avoiding the blade. Twisting the rest of the way Lance cast a paralyze spell and watched as the Redguards muscles locked up. He didn't utter a sound, he just fell, face first. He landed hard on the ground finally letting out a sound, he grunted. The younger one dove in to action slicing at the Nord. But Ike had pulled out his sword and stopped the blade before it could touch him. The younger one had almost no clue how to use a blade and within a minute of the fight Ike had cut his leg and disarmed the Redguard. The older one recovered his bearing but realized his sword was a good deal away from his out stretched hand. He seemed to be thinking about going for it but Lance stuck his own blade up to his throat.

Smiling Lance said," Are you prepared to listen to what he says? His views are quite interesting." The Redguard grimaced as Lance thrust the blade closer to his neck reassuring his will to kill the man.

"Sure…..will listen to your friend." The Redguard said eyeing the blade carefully. The younger Redguard was short. He was the height of a tall Wood Elf meaning he was defiantly short. The Redguard had brown hair and seemed unimposing. The older one seemed to have the same facial features giving the oppression they were related. The older one was tall a few inches taller than Ike and much wider. He sported a few scars on his face and an expression that he knew what was going on at all times.

"We broke out of prison. We've come here to hide and help."

"Right." The Redguard said. "What about the suits?"

"Well they were part of our plan to get out. See we needed to break out and the suits were part of our disguise."

"Ok so what do you want?" The Redguard said looking uncomfortable.

"I liked to speak with Orgma."

"She's not here, won't be back until tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Skooma deal. Some Argonians in the Black Marsh want a lot I heard, and the walk is pretty far."

"Can we stay here then?'

"Why not? It's a freaking party."

Ike and Lance slowly let up the two Redguards who went to retrieve there swords. They sheathed the swords resuming there seats in the table. The elder Redguard took out a pack of cards. Shuffling the deck he asked "Interested in playing a bit of cards?"

"Were not much for money as we've kind of been on the run." Ike said sitting down.

"That's not exactly what we play for." The Redguard said.

The younger Redguard slowly opened a case exposing hundreds of bottles of mead, wine, and beer. They were all lined up perfectly and all filled to the top. Ike's eyes flashed immediately Nord's and there drinking, Lance thought. Ike reached for a flagon and a bottle of mead but it was immediately closed.

"Only if you win." The Redguard said.

"Ok what about us?" Ike said suspiciously.

"Simple. We have an expedition coming up to Molzach. Orgma is looking for some kind of relic she wants fighting men she can trust and that aren't afraid of guards. So if you lose you travel with us to Molzach in search of the relic if you win this case of mead is yours."

"What's Molzach?" Lance asked not trusting Ike to act rational with all the alcohol sitting right there.

"A Dwarven Ruin on the coast of Morrowind."

The cards were dealt and the hands played, soon drinking ensued, and the night passed by quickly as the two fugitives waited for the Skooma dealer Orgma to return.

The next morning brought four passed out men each clutching a bottle of mead in there hands. The room smelled horrible and brought tears to Orgmas eyes as she entered. Scanning the room she noticed a Nord passed out on the floor and a Breton draped over the table. Who were they she thought. Next to the wall was the older Redguard Itithus. Itithus had guarded her store house for years and three years ago his son Aheyad joined. Aheyad was passed out also but right next to the door. Walking quickly she kicked Aheyad in the back. With a start he woke up rubbing his back and squinting his eyes he belched. Orgma continued to walk straight towards the other Redguard she kicked him in the face. Itithus woke up attempting to stand he ran straight in to a nearby table scattering the cards on top.

"Orgma," he said trying to steady himself.

"Yes you slouch," the Argonian said angrily "who are these?"

"Why there Lance and Ike are two new escorts."

**Chapter 9**

The sound of a table being run over was all Lance needed to wake up but his headache told him not to. He continued to be draped over the table taking a swig of the mead in his hand every so often. The last wake up call that was needed was when someone pushed him off the side of the table. He landed hard on his head compounding his headache. He tried to stand but tripped over Ike were he sprawled in to a wall. He tied to stand again while taking another swig of mead but he dropped the bottle it shattered spilling its contents on the floor. Lance slipped on it ending up laying face down in it. He ignored the glass smelling the mead and lapping it off the floor like a dog. Lance never remembered having a hangover so bad. The next time he tried to stand was his last; he used the wall to steady himself and began to look around the room. Itithus stood by his son trying to wake him. Lance was almost out of it but remembered him mumbling good morning to him when he stood up. Ike still was asleep on the floor; he was curled up in a ball talking to himself. As Lance began to sober he became more and more aware of the smell of alcohol in the room and the stuffiness. There was almost no air in the small cabin. When Lance opened the door it was like a feeding frenzy for bugs which made him shut it again fearing the mosquito. Aheyad woke up two hours later stumbling outside to heave up whatever it was he had eaten last night. Ike was the last to wake but also drank the most. He was the center of the bug's attention and the center of the stink. For the rest of the day he continued to drink but in moderation no where near as much as he had last night. The four had played cards and when they had lost meaning they had no choice but to go to Morrowind Itithus opened up the case and passed the mead around.

Conversation that day was limited to grunts and mumblings of small words. No one wanted to talk except for Orgma who voiced it as much as she could. She went around the cabin talking loudly speaking whenever possible increasing there headaches to the breaking point. Most everyone sat in corners pouring water from the nearby marsh on there face. They kept it as cool as possible which wasn't much in a stuffy cabin with no windows and no breeze. Orgma had them work all the same cleaning the cabin so that the horrid smell would go away. Finally, at night when the cabin began to cool off and they opened the door since it no longer smelled and the bugs were sleeping, there headaches began to subside. They sat in the cabin all around one table, smoking cigars and drinking mead of all things, they talked.

"Were where you born?" Itithus asked Lance across the table.

"Morrowind, but I never really liked it there. It was to slow to boring and there were too many Dunmer I've always hated Dunmer. But Imperials there much more cultured and they do rule the empire while Dunmer are a more brutal savage race killing off each other."

"Didn't you just kill an Imperial to get out of prison?"

"Yea, but it's not the same. Dunmer seem just so much more savage and brutal and if possible boring. It's the biggest reason I left Morrowind."

"Did you come alone?" The Redguard asked sounding intrigued for some reason. "Most travelers don't travel alone."

"Na I didn't travel alone. I came across the border as a merc with a friend of mine Clyde. Well, see I supposed to but the only passage in to Cyrodiil was to escort a Skooma dealer's caravan so we did. Well just before the border we were ambushed and all the mercs guarding the caravan except me were killed. I continued across the border and got arrested for a bar fight were I met Ike."

"What about you?" Lance said to the Redguard. "What's your story?"

"Aheyad and I were natives of Cyrodiil. Born and raised in Chorrol I also had a run in with the law. I got in a fight with a man one night and killed him. I would have spent my time in prison except Aheyad was only nine and left out all by himself. I broke out and we were on the run ever since until I found Orgma. Orgma took me in since I knew how to use a blade."

There was a bit of silence while no one spoke.

"There's an important deal going down tomorrow and I would like all of you to be there. My client suspects he is being followed by the Imperial Watch and I don't just deal in drugs." Orgma said smiling. "There are people I get rid of and things I influence and my client would like to buy an excessive amount of Skooma but he is suspicious that he would be busted. I tend to agree so tomorrow come along just to ensure no guards get in the way. I'll have hired guards but extra help never hurts. Night boys try not to get too drunk tonight." With that the Argonian stood up and walked up the stairs tail swishing behind her.

"So how do these things normally go down?" Lance asked.

"A drug deal?" Lance nodded his head. The two parties exchange there unique baggage and then leave. Both sides have armed guards though because Skooma deals can go for quite a lot of money and not many want to go with a criminal alone."

"So it should be simple."

"This one sounds a little bit more complicated than your normal Skooma exchange, my friend." The Redguard said, standing up to put out his cigar and dump out the remainder of his beer. With that said he walked up stairs to his own room.

**Chapter 9**

The next day brought a heavy cloud cover and a drifting fog. The fog was heavy and visibility was limited. Because of the fog Orgma decided to wait until midday to see if the fog dissipated. But by midday the fog was as strong as ever and the cold air was finally starting to gather. Deciding this was there best chance Orgma decided to leave. The deal was at midnight but the walk would be long and they were already behind. Orgma supplied Ike and Lance with clothes deciding it would be rather confusing if they had there watch armor on. Lance wore a black shirt with black shoes, and pants, to blend in to the night better Orgma explained.

The going was tough thanks to the almost impossible to see marshes, thanks to the fog. Lance had an Iron Short sword it was the best Orgma had in her limited armory. Ike actually had a weapon a war hammer. It wasn't an iron war hammer though the war hammer was Ebony and very expensive. Orgma explained that it was from an adventurer who got to close to her cabin, thinking he was a watch captain he was killed. The Ebony War hammer looked a little strange strapped to Ike's back. They talked a lot on the walk in an effort to forget about the harsh conditions. The bugs, fog, cold, and the humid air, the Marsh was defiantly not a good place to go on a vacation. They talked about history the most and one of the more interesting topics the Champion of Cyrodiil.

"Nine years ago was the start of the oblivion crisis." Itithus said. "I remember it well. Trade began to die out no one wanted to travel with all the Oblivion gates sprouting about everywere. Then was the sack of Kvatch it was the first major move. I remember talking to a few survivors in Anvil. Seeing as that is were I lived nine years ago. Aheyad was only a young boy then so he probably remembers almost nothing. We fell upon hard times as my father owned a store in Anvil and he didn't get many supplies, I worked in the store so he couldn't pay me much. The sack of Kvatch was a horrible thing we seen the fires off in the distance at night and the screams carried over the wall. We were scared for days thinking that an army was advancing among the land of Cyrodiil. Most everyone was scared then."

"I thought you were born in Chorrol?" Ike asked.

"I was, but than me Aheyad and my father moved to Anvil. The day after Kvatch was sacked rumors began floating around of a hero. A hero who had risked his life to help the citizens of Kvatch. They say the hero went to Kvatch and closed the gate impeding the Kvatch watch. He then helped them drive the Daedra back and take the City of Kvatch once more. The hero visited Anvil much in the months to come as then he had become known to many. He had saved the Emperors heir from destruction at Kvatch and was a very powerful wizard."

"I thought he was a warrior?" Lance said.

"There were many rumors floating around about the hero, wise tales, galore. But the one I believe was he was a wizard. I heard tales of him being the lead of four different guilds, of him leading a holy crusade but most seemed unbelievable. There were tales of him being as dark as Sithis of being the Gray Fox himself, but I always thought he was the arch-mage. I believed him to be a wizard of unmatched power killing with only one spell. There were many rumors floating around as I am sure there were many about the Nevarian in Morrowind. The Oblivion crisis was a dark time, and he was the one hero to rally behind, him and the Emperors son Martin Septim. Over the next couple of months there were vague sightings of the Champion until he came to Anvil. He spoke directly to the countess asking for support for Bruma, and a few hours later the Oblivion gate that resided right outside the walls disappeared. Then a week later reports of a huge battle at Bruma were a great gate was opened. The loss of life was catastrophic but the Daedra never broke through the walls. The Champion made sure of that himself as he closed the great gate. Then for a day there was nothing supposedly the Champion had left, just when we needed him the most. Then he came back no one except maybe the Emperors son new were he went though most have guessed. They say the two traveled to the Imperial City. The Emperors son and the Champion that is, and a huge battle ensued, giving us the statue of the Dragon that most priests call Akatosh. Everyone has the seen the statue and more have tried to guess what happened. This is were it gets hazy the High Chancellor never reported what he seen. But the most commonly excepted theory is that Akatosh saved his Champion to fight another day, and there were no more Oblivion gates. Things didn't work to Akatosh plans or so they say, because three months later he dissapered. Rumor has it that the Champion went to the middle of the Niben Bay to close a portal and never returned, whether he died or chose to stay there is a mystery as anyone who goes there does not reappear."

"The Champion was strange." Lance remarked pushing a branch from his eyes.

"Indeed he was but he was needed. Many pray to him as a Divine himself because many believe without him Cyrodiil would be destroyed and there kids would not be living any longer."

"I wish I lived in Cyrodiil when the Champion roamed the lands." Lance said looking at the old Redguard.

"I often wish that my son was older as it was quite a spectacle, but I pray in thanks for the chance to watch my son grow up." The Redguard said as Orgma suddenly stopped walking and scanned the area.

**Chapter 10**

There was no movement, at least that Lance could see. The trees seemed absolutely still and even the wind that had been blowing all mourning subsided. Yet, Orgma seemed positive that there was something out there waiting for the party. Expecting the worst Lance pulled out his short sword just as Ike un-strapped his fifty pound war hammer. The party waited for about five minutes when Lance began to relax. Almost at once there was a flurry of movement as a Dark Elf sprinted right to the five standing in the clearing. The Dark Elf ran headlong in to Aheyad, both falling harmlessly to the ground. The Dark Elf attempted to scramble to his feet but Itithus was on him before he was given the chance. Itithus pinned him to the ground while drawing his long sword, he pressed it to his neck. The fog made it hard to see but the Dark Elf was defiantly running from something. A few seconds after he was pinned to the ground a patrol came running through. Somehow they missed the six clustered together and kept running. The Dark Elf let out a sigh of relief, making Itithus press the blade against his neck with more force. The dense jungle made the party have to be practically on top of each other; lance could feel the Redguards breath as he spoke.

"Who the hell are you?"

"No time, they might come back; you can't let them come back. I just got away, I'm not going back, and I'd kill you before I went back."

"Where? Where did you escape from?"

"I got away. The slave trade, they won't get me back."

"I thought slavery was abolished in the Empire?" Ike said to the group.

"Oh, right because everyone follows the laws." Lance said sarcastically.

"No way am I going back damn, Argonians need to know there place. Lucky there so far from Morrowind, I'd show them a thing or two."

"Not to mess with the Dunmer. If we were back in Morrowind they'd be my slave. We Dunmer are a world apart." The Dark Elf had clearly snapped from all the work being a slave.

"But what's your name?" Itithus said shaking the Dunmer.

"Name? What does it matter if they come back ill just be a slave again. I don't want to be a slave again. Let me go please I'll just be on my way just don't let them come back." The wind rustled a nearby tree. "Oh Stendar, are they back? Let me go." The Dark Elf had almost broken in to hysterics as he began to scream at Itithus to let him go.

Itithus punched the Dunmer hard in the gut but it didn't stop him, he only grunted in pain and continued to scream. Ike wasn't taking an insane Dunmer so he steeped up and in one swift kick to the face silenced the Dunmer. There was a sickening crunch as the Dunmers head snapped back violently. He turned his head to face his attacker, his nose bleeding profusely, but said nothing.

"What's your name?" Itithus said in a calm voice.

"Norelighn," The Dark Elf said spitting out blood.

"Now what happened Norelighn?" Itithus said.

"Three months ago I ventured in to the Black Marsh and got lost. I came upon these slave traders who captured me. I've been doing work for them since, they treat people like animals. I'm a Dunmer I don't deserve to be treated like that."

"I'm a Nord," Ike said "Who doesn't like Dunmer, so be a nice quiet one."

"What kicking me not enough?" the Dunmer asked voice rising.

"No, might have to kick you again." Ike said beginning to smile.

"Ok Nord," The Dark Elf said spitting on him and beginning to yell. "Nords are so much better, at everything about consuming alcohol."

"Will you stop yelling if I let you up?" Itithus asked.

"Let him up, and he will be dead." Ike said his face becoming red.

"Nords think there so great because there bigger than us. Bet you cower to an Orc you big lug. Let me up and we will see."

"Ok let him up." Ike said looking at Itithus and un-strapping his war hammer.

"This is not the best place." Orgma said, finally speaking. "The slave traders could still be around. Want to become a slave again?"

"No I don't you beast. Why don't you go climb in that there swamp while us men figure this out."

Orgma was on him in a second dagger drawn, starring at the downed Dark Elf, eyes betraying nothing. Her dagger was pressed up against his chin drawing blood. She slid the dagger along his chin a line of blood following. She was smiling as she worked cutting deep in to his chin. He grimaced but she wasn't going to kill him at least yet.

"Ok, everyone is sensitive about there race." Lance said trying desperately to diffuse the situation. "How about we just forget about this before the slave traders come back looking for our Dunmer friend."

"No! At this point I am about ready to hand him over to the slavers."

"Strange races, let woman run the Empire do you?" The Dark Elf said still pinned to the ground by Orgma's blade.

"Orgma's rich, powerful, dangerous, and a drug lord, what do you expect?" Lance said.

The fog began to clear out but it brought with it a thunderstorm. Lighting cracked in the distance as the rain began to pour on the party. The trees offered a little respite but not enough to stop there clothes from becoming soaked in the first ten minutes.

The Dunmer looked at the sky and began cursing. "Why do I need this? Crazy Argonian woman, a drunken Nord, Redguard enforcers, and a Breton too stupid to do anything."

"What's stopping me from forcing this blade threw his neck?" Orgma asked pushing the blade deeper in to his skin.

"The fact that I am sorry." The Dark Elf said trying to put on a charming smile.

"I just don't know," Orgma said enjoying herself.

"I have an idea," Lance said "Let's head back to the cabin then I hate the rain."

"And kill him there? My pleasure." 

Itithus picked up the soaked bleeding Dark Elf, and began leading him back to the cabin, not at all gently. He forced the Dark Elf through the brush in front of him blade at his back, so that he didn't have to go through it himself. By the time they reached the cabin the Dunmer had a good two dozen more cuts to add to his collection, as he mumbled the whole way. Orgma opened the cabin door overrun with ferns to expose the small room that Lance and Ike had spent the night at the first time there. Itithus forced him to sit down in a chair while Orgma passed around the large collection of alcohol at her disposal. Ike took two meads adding to the Dunmers displeasure.

"So…." Orgma said taking a swig of her mead. "Let's start from the beginning. How did you become a slave?'

"It's a long story?'

She nodded and the Dunmer began his tale.

**Chapter 11**

Norelighn had lived in Leyawiin all his life; it was a small town, a very poor town. When merchants traveled to Leyawiin they always spoke off how small and secluded it was compared to other towns. But Norelighn new nothing else. Leyawiin was were he was born and Akatosh willing were he would die. Norelighn new Leyawiin was a poor town that cam very apparent when he was just little and his parents struggled to make enough money to get food for him. His father was a hunter or better known as a scavenger, not much lived in the Black Marsh that wasn't dead. Because of his father being a hunter Norelighn new much about the marsh, how to survive, and make the marsh bearable to be in. When Norelighn was twelve he began to spend most of his time in the marsh, studying the wonders of a marsh the plant life and more importantly he began to write maps of the marsh. Norelighn became one of the only people in Cyrodiil to know the entire layout of the marsh. When Norelighn was fifteen he could almost visualize the entire marsh from start to finish. In an effort to learn to protect himself Norelighn's father taught him how to shoot a bow. Norelighn became quite good at firing an arrow, that he normally accompanied his dad on his hunting trips. When Norelighn was seventeen his father did not return from a hunting trip, alive. The party he was with returned his body but the healers at the chapel could do nothing for him. He had a disease from spending all that time in the Marsh. His mother died shortly after this time, the healers said that she died from not eating enough or mal-nutrition. Norelighn grew to manhood with no parents and when he was eighteen had to find a job. Norelighn always loved the marsh for some reason, and he was skilled with a bow. Norelighn took up the job as being a guide. Adventurers, merchants, and travelers came through Leyawiin often looking for someone who could navigate the swampy lands safely and there weren't many guides. Norelighn was a great guide and the expeditions played incredibly well, so well that he didn't have to take another expedition for a very long time. Norelighn never lost anyone in the marsh and because of this many paid extremely well for his services, a fact compounded for the fact he rarely took expeditions. When Norelighn turned nineteen he fell in to a slump were he began to drink all his money away meaning he had to do more and more expeditions in order to pay off his increasing debt. His last expedition was to find the Aleyid ruin, Carawan in the marsh.

The contractors were a group of adventurers, five to be exact. Three were decked out in Daedric armor while the other two wore steel. Two carried bows while the only Orc in the party was also the only to carry a war hammer. A Nord and a Redguard were the last two both carrying a long sword. The five ventured in to the marsh, Norelighn began leading them east to the oldest part of the marsh were the ruin would almost certainly be found. The six had almost no problem dealing with the random; creature attacks that plagued the trek. The walk took almost six hours before the party began to grow close to the old part of the marsh and began to notice the remains of ruins. The adventurers always stopped to expect the writings and drawings on the ruins but moved on, claiming that they were not the right ruins. The farther east the party went the more intact the ruins became, and the more standing and less shabby they looked.

The party of adventurers finally stopped the journey at around mid-night when it was almost impossible to see. They woke up early in the morning and began to walk again, they went so far east that the party began to see completely intact ruins but none that was the infamous Carawan.

The plant-life also became bigger and the ferns and brush denser. Norelighn was soon about ready to turn back as he had never been this far in to the marsh and If the plant-life became bigger than so would the animal life. But the adventurers pleaded to go farther as they were sure Carawan was some where out in the marsh. Norelighn was becoming tired of the non-stop walking and the fact that the adventurers still hadn't paid him when they stopped to examine the new tower of ruins.

"Whoa check this out." One of the Wood Elf adventurers yelled.

"What is it?" The Redguard yelled running to the tower the Wood Elf was pointing at.

The whole party began running to the tower, while the two examined the writing.

"I think this is Carawan." One yelled his voice rising in excitement.

"But how do we get in I don't see an entrance of any sort?"

"He said it might have been buried under the marsh."

"No look at this." The Redguard said pointing to a small Aleyid well.

The Well seemed run down and destroyed and very small pinpricks of light escaped through the grating. One of the adventurers dropped a rock through the grating, watching it bounce off the walls as it echoed on its way down. Two of the Adventurers grabbed both sides of the grating and began to pull. The grating slowly slid away revealing the dark passage beneath. One of the adventurers whistled running his hand over the wall, it seemed to stretch forever.

"How do we get down?" The Redguard asked.

"Look a ladder." The Wood Elf replied smiling, and pointing to a dingy ladder bolted to the side of the wall. The bolts looked rusted and not at all safe, but the adventurers seemed set on climbing down.

**Chapter 14(for Kevin)**

The walls were coated with a layer of slime and smelled dimly like rotting meat. The six climbed down the ladder a rung at a time taking it easy as no one was sure of how old the ladder was. The farther down they went the darker the well seemed to get. The rungs themselves were a little slimy but nothing compared to the wall. The well was cold and a gust of wind would rush through the well every so often lowering the temperature a good bit. Talk in the well was limited as everyone was focused on not falling to there death. The descent seemed to take hours, as the party did not talk and could almost not see, the Ruin had to be a few miles under the ground meaning it had been there for a very long time. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the well began to show light, a blue illumination at the bottom of the well was all that was visible. The light seemed to be pulsating dimly, and weird sounds seemed to be floating up the well, the sounds of running water. How could water run, miles under the ground it had to be impossible.

The climb to the ground only took a few minutes and the party stood in a huge room. The room seemed to stretch on forever in each way. The ceiling was lofted straight up for what seemed like hours, barely being able to see the top. There were many sets of stairs descending even deeper into the ruins and a walkway that was surrounded by the welkynd stones on pedestals. But, there was no sign of anything that could make the sound of running water. The floor and walls were made out of quartz that was unstained and welkynd stones littered the area. The nearest wall without counting the entrance chamber to the well was a good five-hundred feet away. The room was colossal, proving exactly why the adventurers wanted to find the ruin. Across the walkway was a door, the door looked almost like a fence with a circle directly in the middle. In front of the door was a handle, or more of a lever, currently pushed towards the gate. The adventurers began to spread out, rubbing there hands against the walls and chattering in a low voice. Two of the adventurers began to inspect the welkynd stones, taking one off the pedestal and holding it in his hands. He began to turn it over watching as the light reflected off the dim glow.

"Have you ever been out this far?" one of the adventures asked Norelighn.

"No I doubt anyone has. The creatures get bigger the farther east you go. Most people try to stay clear of this area."

"Is there any chance that anyone has beaten us to this?"

"If there is it is very slim. The marsh is huge and the well is very hard to see, and the grate was still on."

"Good, good, I think we may have found something here." The Redguards announced to his companions.

The adventurers began to split up; three began descending the stairs, while the other two motioned for Norelighn to join them and crossed the walkway. The walkway had a small roof over there heads, weird drawings covered the walkway, as well as inscriptions. The adventurers eyed them greedily while one sketched what he saw. The adventurers were truly fascinated by the ruin, as was Norelighn. The adventurers pulled the handle back and the gate rose, slowly, creaking the whole way. The gate slid in to the wall becoming completely obscured the party walked threw. The room continued to stretch in one way no longer wide the hallway was just long. Made out of the same quartz as the previous room, a bridge stretched over there heads leading to Azura knows were. The hallway was the same pulsating blue, except for the light seemed to be coming from the walls itself rather than some unseen source. The three walked down the hall examining the drawings, footsteps echoing loudly on the stone. The hallway curved steeply up revealing a larger passage that looped back in on itself. They continued to follow the passage as the glow began to intensify, revealing the bridge they had seen from the previous hallway. The crossed the bridge, careful to stay in the middle of the walkway, the bridge opened up to a ridge above the huge room they had seen from the entrance hallway. The room still looked huge, and hard to see the end from were they were standing; they followed the ridge along the side of the room. The ridge curved along one of the corners bringing them close to the ground floor before banking sharply up again. They stayed on the ridge looking over the edge to see the platform were the stairs descended to it was almost pitch black down there. On the far side of the room was a platform not connected by anything except the ridge. The ridge descended to the platform still along the wall. The platform was the most intense shade of blue in the whole ruin. The platform was pulsating the fastest and hurt the three's eyes when staring directly at the door on the platform, the only way out except for the ridge. The door looked like any other door, but for the top of the door was more of a mesh grating than the rest, of it. Norelighn took the lead pushing slowly on the door his eyes beginning to water the door opened slowly, creaking just like the gate had done. The door revealed yet another room this one large enough to contain a cylinder like item that was at least one story high. The item looked to way a few hundred pounds and was the object emitting the strong blue glow. The object gave off heat, and the glow seemed to be almost white the closer they got. The object resembled a varla stone in every way except for size and the fact that it was standing up seemingly on its own. The adventure's moved forward hand outstretched ready to touch the object, mumbling in excitement. When there was a bright flash of light and the adventurers were thrown in to the nearby wall. Dazed they stood up walking forward this time the object let them pass the invisible barrier.

Resting his hand on the item the adventurer smiled, "It's a giant Varla stone."

**Chapter 15**

As soon as the adventurers hand touched the stone there was a flurry of movement. Dozens of chambers around the room thundered open revealing hundreds of undead. The adventurer whose hand had touched the stone was overrun with zombies in the first second. The skeletons continued on towards Norelighn and the other adventurer as they made a mad dash, for the door. The first adventurer was torn limb from limb exposing his innards, and splashing blood, on the spotless white floor. The zombies greedily ate him, the crunch of bone vibrated off the walls. Norelighn fired arrow after arrow at the skeletons watching as it glanced off there bones, cracking them slightly. The adventure held the door open just enough for Norelighn to run out before he slammed it close and ran.

"Over here," he yelled widely, sprinting up the ramp. The adventure almost stumbled over the ledge but regained his footing, as he watched pieces of the ramp cascade to the ground. Behind him the skeletons had finally opened the door and began following the two up the ramp. The skeletons ran almost as fast as the adventurers and didn't seem to tire. Norelighn and the adventurer turned the corner were it doubled up as the skeletons were almost a few yards away from them and gaining. The adventurer tripped hitting the ground hard he attempted to stand but in his panic, he sprawled wildly on the ground, Norelighn grabbed his arm hoisting him up, as they continued to run. Almost completely out of breath they forced the gate open and sprinted across the bridge. The blue glow was slightly tinted red. The three other adventurers came running up the steps an army of there own skeletons falling in step. Norelighn ran for the ladder diving toward it he grabbed the bottom rung, the force of his movement pushed him in to the wall, making him almost lose his grip. He began to climb hand over hand, as another adventurer dove for the rung, the adventurers grip was not enough and he fell back to the ruin, as another adventurer dove, the adventurer on the floor was kicked out of the way and sent sprawling into the skeletons waiting arms. The second one was more successful and made the same climb Norelighn had just made, but the remaining two adventurers were torn apart, at the bottom. Norelighn watched as there blood pasted the walls on all side and there screams filled his ears.

The climb up the ladder seemed to be accelerated to the point that Norelighn remembered almost none of it. He continued to replay the adventurers final moments, never had he seen so much blood and violence. The skeletons had eaten them alive, and Norelighn had been lucky to survive. Lucky that he thought on his feet enough to grab hold of the ladder there one escape route. Norelighn was covered with a thick coating of blood, which made the climb harder as he had to struggle to get a good hold of the ladder or risk falling back to the zombies. Norelighn dimly remembered climbing out of the well to the swamp, and the darkness beyond. Norelighn sat on the cold ground, starring off into space waiting for the adventurer to finish his climb, a few minutes later two sat on the ground starring into space.

"What now?" Norelighn asked barely able to whisper.

"We need to get back to town; I have to tell the Emperor about the stone."

"What why?"

"It's a giant Varla stone, that's what we were sent here looking for, a giant varla stone."

"So what's so important about it?" Norelighn asked his temper rising.

"If the emperor had it he could end the wars raging in the other provinces he could bring piece to the empire, he established."

"If it's so great why is it guarded by legions of undead?"

"The Aleyids believe that the stone was too powerful for any one man to hold. Too powerful for an emperor a king, or even a whole empire, the first stone ever discovered was lost, by the first emperor. A huge war was the beginning of the first stone, and it was destroyed by the high elves who finally got there hands on it. All these years the Septims have been looking for it, and when the last emperor died, the high chancellor sent us here were the last rumors of the artifacts, whereabouts were known. The last emperor worried that the stone was hidden for a reason, and worried that the high elves, a race that new more about magic than any other would go through such extreme lengths to destroy it, but his death was the end of it."

"If it was hidden for a purpose than it should remain hidden."

"We feared some people would see it like this, but don't you understand no more starving, no more hurting, no more wars. The provinces can finally be united by one emperor, one banner."

"The Aleyids must have had a reason for destroying it. Otherwise why wouldn't they had used it to keep there empire alive, established?"

"Legends have told of how the stone was lost during the final hours of there war, and yes there will almost certainly be consequences but won't it be better than this?"

Norelighn continued to stare into the darkness.

The dark elf finished his tale as he gulped up the rest of his mead.

"I disagreed with him, and slave traders came out of nowhere and abducted me. I had to stop him from getting the stone though so I escaped."

"So there's a ruin around here with a giant Varla stone?" Lance asked a little unbelieving, "and how exactly did you want to stop the chancellor from getting his hands on the stone?'

**THE RESISTANCE BEGINS**

**Chapter 16**

Early the next mourning the six opened the cabin door to a hale of insects, but there was no time to spare, they couldn't wait. They pressed through the wave of insects following Norelighn as he led the party towards, Leyawiin. The walk was a good four hours, made longer by the constant bogs, and dense foliage. When they finally reached visual range of the walls, Norelighn stopped and looked at the six.

"Leyawiin has fallen on hard times they won't let everyone in, the guard will ask us a bunch of questions. A few years after the champion of Cyrodiil left bandit and marauder attacks became so prevalent, and the guards and militia so dwindling, that merchants almost stopped traveling all together. Leyawiin had always got there gold and supplies from merchants, being so far away and there farm land almost un able to grow crops at all. Only rare merchants and wizards would travel here looking for the rarest ingredients only the swamps of Leyawiin harbored, with the merchants not attempting the risk for something so trivalent, Leyawiin has almost become poor."

Norelighn turned to look at the guard, and nodded at the party before beginning to walk towards him.

The guard looked at the party obviously sizing them up for any threat as he was alone. There were three or four guards on the top of the wall but they were to far away to offer any help. The wall was turning a pale green from all the ferns around it that it almost blended right in with the surrounding swamp. The gate itself though was a dull brown that stuck out like a sore thumb.

The guard spoke to Norelighn first he obviously didn't recognize the Dark Elf standing before him.

"Name?" he said with a grunt.

"Norelighn," he replied, knowing that there was no threat if anyone recognized it.

It obviously did not click with the guard who continued to stare at Norelighn while asking "Why you here to visit are nice town?"

"I'm a merchant the Empire finally decided to send help, to your _nice_ town."

"And you?" the guard said pointing to Lance.

"My names Lance, I was hired to guard these here merchants, me and Ike."

"Ike?"

"The Nord," Lance said simply.

The guard moved down the list asking Itithus his name and profession, who replied truthfully to the name part but lied slightly, saying he was also a traveling merchant as was his son.

Orgma was up next.

"What's yer name Argonian?" the guard asked

"Orgma," she said her temper rising slightly, "I'm Itithus wife."

"They allow relationships like that now days do they?" the guard asked Itithus startled slightly.

"Well they have made many advances past such childish racism." Orgma said her temper starting to flare; the guard obviously did not know what he was stepping in to.

"Is the kid's mom the Argonian?" the guard asked looking at Itithus son rather disgusted.

"What if it is?" Orgma said obviously looking for a reason to start a fight.

"Stay out of this Argonian I was talking to the man."

She lunged for the guard blade drawn just as Ike tackled her, she slipped from his grasp, and wrestling the guard to the ground she plunged the blade through his throat. The guard gasped for breath, blood pouring out of his wound. The gates creaked open and dozens of guards poured out of the gate as Orgma ran. Two stopped to look at there comrade as Ike made a mad dash after her. Norelighn had said that the guards would have limited to no experience at dealing with a crisis like this, and they didn't they had let the gate open, and most if not all the guards had begun the chase. Norelighn, Lance, Itithus and his son, hurried through the narrow streets. The town was old and dingy, and very battered; the houses were very old and seemed posed to collapse at any moment. Norelighn led the party through the streets and right up to the steps of the cathedral that resembled the town. They had not run in to any guards, and there plan seemed to be working perfectly.

Norelighn bellowed one sentence that turned heads, and brought people out of there homes

"The giant Varla stone has been found."

Almost at once dozens of townspeople poured out of there homes, and those going about there business out of there house found there way to the cathedral. Since the attacks began, any settlements outside the main cities have been raided and burnt to the ground, most everyone has chosen to find permanent refuge in a town like Leyawiin, meaning that almost two-hundred had crowded the Cathedral steps. A few of the town's people began to mutter, one yelled out a realization that it was Norelighn, Lance hoped that he was well respected. The realization brought more muttering, not so good. Norelighn quieted there mutterings when he began to talk at the top of his voice, almost yelling.

"I have seen it with my own eyes, a party of adventurers, one that I had led to a ruin had found the stone. The adventurer planned on telling the chancellor they want to use it. I tried to stop them, I tried but they turned on me and I was given to the slave traders. Please, if they get there if they reach the stone, then the legends, that we were told as children will come true."

"Peace?" one of the men yelled, "What is so wrong with peace."

"The price of that peace, and tranquility. If they were to get there hands on the stone they would have peace but at a terrible cost."

"How do we know that the peace isn't worth the price?"

"Because the Aleyids locked it away, kept it hidden and didn't use its powers to stop the destruction of there empire."

"Why are we discussing this any way?" another asked, "How do we know he is telling the truth?"

"You don't." Norelighn said, "But why would I lie?"

"If the stone is really out there and the chancellor knew were it was, what could we do about it?"

"The chancellor will need to pass threw here and he will bring an army, we could stop his army."

"Asking us to wage war on the Empire is asking us to put Leyawiin at risk."

"Everything has a risk, whatever you decide, and I don't want to hurry you, will have to be quick the guards will not wait forever."

**End of Part One**

**Part Two**

**Chapter 17**

The townspeople took a collective gasp; a few scanned the area looking for guards, full expecting a legionnaire to cut them apart. Nobody, jumped from the shadows, and silence overtook the crowd, everyone was deciding for themselves what to do. The Chancellor was a corrupt leader and an even more corrupt businessman. The empires people, the towns were crumbling right under his nose while the septims flowed in, on a lake of gold. The chancellor had been a terrible leader and somehow kept any one from replacing him which is law. The chancellor had done nothing to quell the bandit and marauder attacks, and the fighter's guild and mages guild began to dry up. The funding which had kept the two guilds running for years was cut off after the champion of Cyrodiil disappeared he was the only thing keeping the chancellor honest. Things were no better in the other provinces the war between the Khajiits and Argonians had flared up once again. Reports of heavy casualties always floated in from the land of the beasts. The high elves had hired Orc mercs and had begun the war on Skyrim, and the Dark elves were still reeling from the Nevarian, and the loss of the Nevarian. The thieves guild had almost tripled in numbers to the point they no longer operated in the dark, fences were around in broad daylight. The house in Cheydinhal was know recognized by the count and seldom visited by his assistance. Necromancers, which the Champion had helped quell had almost made a full rise, and were about as close as possible to being there own guild. The bandit population had become so powerful in fact, that bandits had held the town of Skingrad for three weeks until the chancellor sent an army to take it back. One of the chancellors brighter hours, and one most believe was to make more money.

The next few minutes were a flurry of movement and noise, husband and wives argued over whether to participate, in a rebellion against the empire. Every family began to decide for themselves, a few questions were shot at Norelighn who tried to answer them as truthfully as possible. A few families scurried in side there homes deciding that siding with Norelighn was more trouble than it was worth. The rest of the crowd thinned out leaving around one-hundred townsfolk standing around, restlessly. When the woman and children had left the count dropped to a meager forty, maybe just enough to continue the next phase of there plan. Norelighn looked at the small group of forty many clutching weapons, pick axes, short swords, or hammers, even a few had a shield. But the small army didn't seem too fight worthy; Norelighn hoped that there plan would cover that. Taking the last few steps in one bound, Norelighn hit the ground, and he nodded at Lance, Itithus and his son, who followed him at a sprint. The guards would be arriving soon, and they had to break out Orgma and Ike, they planned on driving the guards to the army of forty men who would hopefully, intimidate them in to surrendering. Norelighn didn't want to kill too many guards. Lance noticed his hesitation and smiled a little, Lance didn't want to kill them either but he had killed guards before when necessary and he deemed this necessary. The quartet weaved through the city at a record pace, always jogging. They finally made it to the outskirts of Leyawiin were they found the gate still open and a group of guards making there way through. Orgma was strung between two men while a few others stood by helping to subdue the struggling Argonian. Ike had close to seven guards on him, all of which were struggling to keep him down. Perfect, Lance thought, they just needed to wait to ambush the guards. Ike and Orgma seemed bruised and battered, defiantly being on the receiving end of some punishment. The guards made there way through the gate and up street to the castle, they sprung at once. Lance cast a lightning spell that caught three of the guards, launching them high up in the air. The three were subduing Ike's arms, meaning that he fell hard on his head; he stood up, kicking the other guards off him. Before he could stand up the guards dropped Orgma sending her plummeting to the ground were her fist collided with his groin. Groaning he stood up, tears flooding down his cheek, Lance winced, realizing it must be more painful than any sword. Norelighn fired two arrows both collided with the nearest guard's helm, dead or unconscious Lance did not know. Oblivious to what Orgma had done, she stood up drawing the dagger from her boots that the guards had obviously not removed. Lance, Itithus and his son continued to run at break neck pace, they collided with the guards know surrounding, Orgma and the still hurting Ike. The guard's fell back drawing there swords, the three that Lance had cast a spell at were finally recovering, meaning that twenty-seven guards stood, against the six. Lance battled the nearest two guards, taking careful watch to keep his sword between the attackers. The guards fell back, through the streets, they were defiantly not the best trained as they had the advantage but refused to press. The guards fell back to exactly were the six wanted them to, through the winding streets and to there waiting army. Lance had took as much care as possible to not kill any of the guards, not that he particularly liked them he just new that there blade would be valuable in the battle against the chancellor. The guards heard the ruffle of footsteps and the sound of the army behind them and they turned to look at forty men all starring at them.

"What is this?" the Guard Captain commanded, "We protect you and for what? To be betrayed, for you to side with these criminals."

"The Empire has found the stone." One of the townspeople said, "We knew this day would come."

"The stone?" the captain obviously looked taken aback. "When, how?"

"Norelighn has seen it with his own eyes, he claims the chancellor is coming right now, you know we are the only ones to stop his advance."

"But I thought it was hidden, I thought the Aleyids had hidden it so that it would never be found?"

"Obvious lies," a guard yelled, "We know it was hidden it couldn't be found."

The guards looked at Norelighn, waiting for a response waiting for a confirmation of the town's story. Norelighn looked sadly in to the guards eyes," the stone has been found." He said.

"Impossible," a guard said, "It was hidden the Aleyids hid it, if they desired it hidden then it would be hidden."

"Nothing can remain hidden forever," Norelighn said.

"If what Norelighn says is true than we must stop the chancellor."

"But how do we know what he says is true?" a guard protested.

"How can I give you an assurance?" Norelighn said, looking at the townspeople, "I have seen it I swear, if there was a way, a way to tell you to explain to you the truth I would give it to you."

"He wouldn't lie, not about this," the guard captain said.

"It doesn't matter, they killed one of our own." A guard yelled, "They are murderers."

"But the circumstances, I needed to talk to the townspeople, you would never have listened otherwise." Norelighn pleaded.

"He is right," the guard captain said, "You are murderers and must be prosecuted as such."

**Chapter 18**

The townspeople starred at Norelighn, rather dumbstruck, they obviously couldn't believe they had listened to a murderer. The guards looked at Norelighn and than at Lance and the rest. Three guards grabbed hold of Lance while five clamped Ike's arms against his chest. The guards spread out among the party, restraining them as they made the trip to the cell, were they would spend the rest of there life in. The road leading to the castle, was packed hard, it had not rained in Leyawiin for a long time. The guards wasted no energy as they tossed them all in a dingy cell. The floor of the cell was covered in mud, and human waste. There was a table and two chairs in a corner; the table was covered in filth as was the chairs. Half the cell was somehow untouched, the side were the bedrolls were sprawled at. The walls of the cell were very old sandstone. The wall was crumbling under its own weight from the poor design and the disease of time. Lance on his way to the unscathed side of the cell, slipped falling in to a pile of mud, and god new what. There wasn't much they could do; he didn't think breaking out of jail was an option this time. Lance thought about his journey, the trip from Morrowind, the death of Clyde, escaping from the Imperial City prison, the walk to the marsh, and finally meeting Norelighn on there way to a drug deal. Events had been spiraling for a ling time, but when Lance had broken out of prison he hadn't envisioned himself back in, barely a month after breaking out.

"What can we do?" Norelighn asked. "If we don't escape than, the chancellor will reach the stone."

"How do you know that," Orgma said, "You said that there were hundreds of zombies at the ruins, maybe they will hold them off?"

"The Chancellor will bring an army a very large army; even the zombies won't be able to stop them."

Norelighn looked at Lance pleadingly, asking the Breton for a way out, any way out. Lance starred back at him on the verge of giving up hope, soaked, with mud, Lance sat down.

"It doesn't matter," Lance said, "Were stuck, we would have to kill half the town to escape."

Norelighn looked startled at the Breton's reaction, unwilling to believe the hardy Breton he spoke up. "We can't just give up, there has to be a way."

Lance examined the dingy cell, brain working furiously, the cell had one window, barred but it offered limited light. A torch burned on the wall closest to the cell door. He gave up looking; there was nothing they could use as a weapon, no escape.

"We should wait," The Breton said,"Maybe in time the townspeople will come to release us."

"But the stone…"

"I'm not even sure if I believe you in the first place," Lance yelled. "We came to this town killed a guard, all for one of your wild stories, I have never even seen you before that night. Why did we even believe you anyway?"

"I don't know." Norelighn said looking defeated. He sat down in another corner far from Lance. Lance grabbed a bed roll leaning it up against a wall, he fell asleep.

The next morning brought sunshine so intense that the temperature inside the cell had to be well over a hundred. Lance sat in the same corner he had fell asleep in waiting for his meal, and jug of water they had always brought him in the Imperial City jail. Half the day went by, and the guards had brought him nothing. His hunger and throat gnawed at him the whole day. It became hard to swallow and even harder to breathe as the heat increased around midday. Ike and the rest had only muttered a few words there whole time in jail, after the argument that Norelighn and Lance had shared. Lance would have given anything for a snow storm than until finally around dusk the heat broke. Crickets chirped and finally a meal was brought to the prisoners. The meal consisted of a piece of cold crab meat, and stale bread. The water was the best part though as they brought a huge jug of it for each person. The water was surprisingly cool as it slid down Lance's throat. Realizing the threat of it being scorching tomorrow, Lance only drank half of his jug, leaving the rest in the only place he knew there to be shade. Lance fell asleep early to the whispering of his cell mate's whishing that this whole ordeal had been a dream, Whishing that he wasn't back in jail.

The next morning once again, was one of intense heat. Lance had bad sunburn by midday but the water helped him to calm his nerves. The next diner was about the same again the best part being the jug of water. This jug had a sour taste giving Lance the opinion that it might had been related to the swamps and bogs of the marsh. Lance was growing irritated as he slept as once again his friends were whispering just loud enough for him not to be able to hear.

The next few weeks passed with about the same routine. Lance's friends always whispering, the intense heat, the same boring food and the stale, sour water. They almost never talked to Lance unless necessary. His voice normally cracked, from the intense heat, and he could feel his body slipping as he did nothing to stay in shape. By the third week the heat that had plagued them finally broke bringing with it a cool rain that barely parted through there window. By the fourth week tempers were running high as the heat had returned, the friends broke in to regular arguments, and even a few fights had broken out. Lance had disconnected with the group as he waited in prison. No longer did he even acknowledge them, Lance had become too immersed in his thoughts and self pity.

By the sixth or seventh week, Norelighn began to think up wild plans of escaping from the flea-ridden cell, but they always shot them down. None were any good, none were worth attempting. Lance and Norelighn together had come up with the plan to get in to Leyawiin it was a good plan, except none had thought it would back fire like it did. Without, Lance the plans seemed doomed to failure, and not worth even the thought.

Finally Norelighn had given up, walking over to Lance he yelled in his face.

"All you do is sit there, starring in to space, why don't you do something?" Lance didn't respond.

Norelighn began to shake him yelling at the top of his voice, "Help me, I know we can find a way out of here." When Lance didn't respond Norelighn aimed a kick at him that ricocheted off his shoulder. Norelighn crouched right beside his face, he spat. A huge glob of spit covered his face, as Norelighn began to yell. "All you do is sit here, you no good piece of shit. What do you expect from us? Huh? We need your help, yet you sit there trying to think of a good way to end your life." Lance's arm shot out connecting with the side of Norelighn's head, knocking him directly to the ground.

**Chapter 19**

Norelighn rolled away from Lance, rubbing the side of his head.

"Going to help us now?" Norelighn groaned.

Lance didn't say anything but stood up for the first time in a few days. Orgma sat in the far corner squinting to look at the risen Lance. Ike was sprawled across his bed roll staring at the black ceiling. Itithus sat in the other clean un-occupied corner. His son leaned up against the wall between Orgma and Itithus. Norelighn looked a little shaken when he spoke next.

"Look we need your help, and so far you had been un-willing to give it. We have thought of a few plans of actions but you won't help. We can't just leave you, it's not right."

Lance still didn't speak but stared intently at the Dark Elf and than tackled him. The force of his action sent the Dark Elf and Lance careening in to the pile of mud. Lance wrestled with Norelighn punching him twice in the gut. Norelighn twisted his body unleashing a vicious kick to his chest that knocked Lance off of him. Norelighn attempted to stand up, but Lance was right back on top of him, launching Norelighn deeper into the pile of filth. Itithus and his son were on top of him within seconds, pulling Lance back; Lance unleashed a punch at Itithus that missed. Cursing loudly, lance flailed his limbs wildly. But Itithus and his sons finally had him restrained. Norelighn stood up breathing hard and rubbing his chest, he starred angrily at Lance. Lance was much bigger than Norelighn, and as such, Norelighn felt it best not to attack him.

"Leave me," Lance said "If I really cared to come with you would I have been ignoring you? I have been thinking of plans too, but I am tired of running from the law, I thought Cyrodiil would be better than Morrowind, but I realized I was wrong. It's worse much worse."

"There's nothing you can do about that now, you chose to come here, stop regretting your choice."

"And if I won't? As soon as we get out of here, if we ever get out of here, I will be traveling back towards Morrowind at least there, I didn't get arrested constantly."

Silence overtook the cell, when Norelighn finished speaking; there was no sound except the constant dripping of the water from the ceiling colliding with the mud. With almost no warning there was a hail of footsteps echoing on down the hall outside the cells. A small attractive Breton woman, no older than twenty came in to view.

She unlocked the cell door speaking one word, "Follow."

The party had no choice so they did. She led them through the halls and up through the castle at a run. Her brown hair leading them down the hill and back to the chapel. Scattered around the chapel was dozens of wounded men and woman. Many clutching wounds others so hurt that they had no choice but to stay lying on there bed rolls. Tents were pitched around the chapel, many tending to the wounded. One woman attempted to stop the bleeding of one man, but she continued to be covered in his blood despite her efforts. A few bodies were sprawled motionless, pale, giving Lance the opinion that they were dead. The brown haired Breton led them to one man standing on the chapel stairs; he looked at the party of adventurers.

"What is this for?" Norelighn asked.

"The bodies?" The man asked surveying the wounded scattered around the chapel.

"Yes."

"There the reason you're not still rotting in jail. Norelighn you now the settlement not far from here?" When Norelighn nodded he continued. "It was established two years ago, it was attacked by the Chancellors army, these are the casualties." He said motioning to the wounded.

"How did they escape?"

"Were not exactly sure they haven't opened up to our questioning considering there current situation it is understandable. The fact of the matter is we need your help, you have way more combat experience than us, if the Chancellor destroyed there town what's to say they won't do the same here?'

"So this is just about the town?" Norelighn said looking rather disgusted.

"The Town comes first." The man said his voice rising.

"We'll help," Lance said, "What choice do we have, you never now we may be able to protect the stone yet. How many fighting men do we have at our disposal?"

"About one-hundred"

"And the Chancellors army?"

"We have reason to believe it is close to seven-hundred strong."

**Chapter 20**

The village contained thirty houses, all made out of wood, all relatively old. Encircling the small village was a wall; five feet high the wall was made to keep the children in. The wall was crumbling and bricks were scattered around the village from the crumbling wall. The house in the south east corner was by far the oldest, it gave off a shadowy presence and crumbled under its own weight. In the exact middle was the pride of the village, the sheep ranch. Forty sheep ran in lazy arcs sleeping as it was about that time. The rest of the village was asleep except for the ranch owner. He loved to watch his sheep before bed and he did so tonight. But the rancher was old within ten minutes the rancher was as gone as the rest of the village. The peaceful inhabitants had no idea that twenty figures had slipped in there village. Almost invisible except for a slight shadow they gave off. The first figure picked the lock on the door to one of the small cabins. He made his way threw the house to the top floor. He entered the first out of the two rooms. A man and woman lye on the bed, the figure drew his bow, knocking an arrow. The arrow traveled a short distance, entering the man's face, with a whoosh of air. The arrow broke bones, and as the woman woke up another arrow from his bow punctured her face. The assassins moved to the second room, launching an arrow at the boy curled up in his bed. They had been trained for exactly this and they were experts, elites. After twenty of the houses had been emptied a figure made his way to the sheep ranch, they had not known that the rancher was out there, and the assassin narrowly nipped the rancher's chair. The rancher woke up with a start but somehow, had not made any sound. He scanned the area starring intently at the shadows that crept around the village. The rancher knew what he had to do, making his way to the bell only feet from his house he rang it while bellowing, "RUN, RUN."

The assassins stared at the bell unable to believe what was happening arrows soared towards the bell all missing there target except for the one witch connected with the ranchers leg, he yelped in pain, falling face first in the dirt he bloodied his lip. Families from the remaining ten houses ran at a sprint from the village fathers dragging wives carrying babies. The assassins had no idea what to do they had not been trained for this and they couldn't see, except for the one, with unnatural quickness the man lurched forward pursuing the fleeing families. A grin on his face he ran, catching two, both men, the assassin tackled them, one attempted to resist drawing a dagger but the assassin had faced much stronger and experienced warriors than him and easily slit his throat, the other was descended upon. The chancellor had ordered the village clear, the chancellor wouldn't be happy about the survivors the assassin thought, so he decided not to tell him, returning to the village, he found the man, who had rang the bell and the man who had woke him up, both would be punished.

The remaining survivors ran well in to the night past exhaustion fear was a greater ally. They ran towards the only hope they had they ran towards Leyawiin. Leyawiin they knew would not turn them away, even if they brought a great plague. Which in this case they did, they brought the army of the chancellor and an ancient evil directly to there doorstep.

Many were bruised and battered from the journey, many swearing profusely and many dying of thirst. The villagers were dying slowly they had no help, no supplies and no home, they were lucky Leyawiin opened there doors at all. Seven were the number of survivors, but when they had told the story to the watch they left immediately.

Returning several hours later they brought the bodies of there comrades the rancher not among them.

**Chapter 21**

Lance stood at the foot of the chapel starring out into darkness. The villagers had really got to work, barricading the gates to make it that much harder to enter. About ten feet inside the wall was a trench that was dug 17 feet deep into the ground. Leyawiin was surrounded with trees so as such they had enough wood to place nice sharpened sticks jutting out of the trench. The trench outlined the whole wall providing another good line of defense. The houses were perfect for archers and the almost 100 strong villagers was a army that they could just not waste. Lance wanted so bad to leave, he was free but he was almost certain that wouldn't be for long. They were going against the Chancellor, the man who was basically recognized as the Emperor. If he didn't kill them than they were certainly going to be arrested. If what the villagers said was true than there was a Vampire among the Chancellors army. Lance knew they couldn't kill a Vampire; they were twice as strong and twice as fast as a human. They were almost invisible in the dark and they could see three times as well in the dark, there only chance would be to fight the Vampire in the day time. But in less the Vampire was stupid that wouldn't happen, Vampires were invulnerable in the dark. Lance had heard some say that they were strengthened by the moon.


End file.
